The Worst Betrayal
by TwilightChild999
Summary: Takes place after 'Dead Things'. After the fight in the alley, Spike disappears without a trace. A strange demon makes a truce with the Slayer, bringing news of a slave trade that's popped up right under her nose.
1. Chapter 1

**The Worst Betrayal**

His skin was cool and smooth beneath her own. She rode him with wild abandon, throwing her head back so that her recently shortened blonde hair tickled her own shoulders. His hands were skating over her body, moving across her hips and down her legs. Buffy knew without looking that he was staring at her with complete adoration.

Her hand moved over his body possessively, marking him as hers – her toy to play with. His hard chest and abs felt wonderful under her fingertips. His hips bucked hard, thrusting up towards her so that he could bury his cock deeper inside her. All the while he was soundless – a near impossibility.

Pleasure was all that she wanted or needed from him.

When she looked down at his beautifully sculptured features, she decided once again that the shiver that went through her body had to be no more than simple lust. His deep blue eyes never left hers – once she finally allowed him to see them. He had no soul of his own, and yet somehow, he was stealing hers.

He had to be stopped.

Before she could even comprehend where it had come from, the stake was raised in her hand. She brought it down swiftly, slamming the pointed wood through flesh and rib, into her lover's unbeating heart. His eyes widened, and his body stilled, the look he gave her one of confused betrayal. The word 'hurt' could not even begin to describe the agony she saw in his eyes.

Buffy felt his fingers close around her wrist, and she looked down at their hands – hers still gripping the weapon she had shoved through his chest, his still holding onto her.

She looked back up at his face, gasping in surprise. His beautiful features were suddenly swollen and disfigured. One sharp cheekbone was shattered, his lips split in three different places, and one eye was swollen completely shut.

The Slayer wasn't naked anymore. She was fully dressed, crouched on top of her beaten vampire lover, who was lying on his back on cold concrete. The sounds of a familiar police station were not far away, the smells of the alleyway assaulting her senses.

All of these barely registered in Buffy's mind.

The one she'd wanted to kill quickly, mercifully, to save both him and herself, was lying beaten and broken beneath her. Before she could even begin to do or say anything to make it right, he'd arched his back, opening his mouth wide in a scream of agony – that was completely silent.

His body crumbled to dust beneath her, and she was left on her hands and knees crouched on the cold stone – alone in the dark.

"NO! Spike!" Buffy sat up quickly, reaching out desperately to grasp nothing but air. She breathed in harsh, ragged gasps that she refused to believe could possibly be the beginning of sobs.

Not for *him*!

The undeniable presence of the tears on her cheeks only served to further confuse her. She sighed heavily, wiping away the useless tears as she peered around her dark room. A storm had begun outside – like an omen stirring up the bad feeling inside her even more.

If it was possible, tonight the graveyard seemed even more depressing than usual. The steady drizzle that had started the night before hadn't eased – which was more than a little unusual.

It wasn't often that such damp weather visited southern California.

Buffy had not slept since the last dream she had had about Spike. She had had five of them in the past two weeks. The very first had been the night after she'd beaten – the last night that she'd seen Spike, in the alleyway behind the police station. He hadn't even shown up at her birthday party, two nights ago.

Of course, she hadn't wanted him there – really, she hadn't – but she had still expected him to try to poke his nose into it, anyway.

She wasn't disappointed – not at all.

She hadn't seen him at all since that night at the police station. She'd actually managed to stay away, not to seek him out, no matter how unusual his behavior seemed – no matter how badly her body ached for him.

But by tonight, Buffy had decided that enough was enough. Their apparently mutual avoidance could not go on any longer. Patrol had been beyond boring for the last week. She had not seen him at all, and a part of her could not help but anxiously wonder…

…not that it was important. What the undead bleached menace thought of her didn't matter. He shouldn't have gotten in her way, shouldn't have…

Buffy found herself in front of the vampire's crypt sooner than she had expected – and before she was really prepared to be there. Swallowing hard, she willed her chaotic, confusing thoughts to silence.

Suddenly remembering her dream, she put her stake back into her coat pocket. Then, after a moment's reconsideration, she took it out and tossed it aside completely. No sense taking any chances, she shrugged.

She then spent a few *more* tense moments trying to convince herself that her hand was *not* trembling as she reached towards the door.

"If I might interrupt whatever it is you're doing…"

The Slayer gave a very girly yelp before whirling around. At first, her heart leapt, thinking that maybe it was Spike, who, much to her embarrassment, had often found her lingering near his crypt.

She had to ignore the way her heart fell when she set eyes on a demon of average height standing behind her. He was probably no more than two inches taller than Spike, but his skin was a shade of green that definitely didn't belong on the blonde vampire.

The forest green scales gave way to many small gray horns all across his eyebrow ridges, and down each cheek. If she hadn't known that demons were immortal, she'd have said that he had aged poorly. His face had deep lines around the eyes and around his thin-lipped mouth. His hair was gray, falling haphazardly down around the base of his neck.

"You know," Buffy spoke once she'd calmed down, "if you wanted to get the drop on a Slayer, it's usually not a good idea to politely call their attention. Though, gotta say, it's kind of refreshing. It's not often I get a polite demon to slay."

He raised his hands, which would have been very human-looking if not for the green scales across the backs, in a gesture of surrender. The skin of his palms seemed thicker as well. "I assure you, I mean you no harm. In fact, on the contrary, I wish to enlist your help."

Buffy stared at him incredulously. "What is it about demons around here wanting to call truces? You guys keep forgetting one very important thing – I'm the *Slayer*. That means I kill you – I don't help you."

"You help those that are innocent."

"Yeah, which doesn't include demons or vampires."

The strange demon before her smirked. "And what of vampires with souls?"

Her eyes turned cold. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. "Alright, so you know about Angel…what does this have to do with him?"

"Who said he was the vampire of whom I spoke?"

Buffy laughed. "Are you saying there's another vampire with a soul?"

His expression grew suddenly somber and troubled. "My dear, I'm saying there are many. And right now – each and every one of them needs your help."


	2. Chapter 2: Pockets and Slaves

All the Scoobies were gathered, each and every one in their own spot in the living room of the house at 1630 Revello Drive. The only one that didn't belong was the green demon – Buffy's new graveyard stalker – standing there before them all, like a professor preparing to give a lecture.

"Imagine if you would…a pocket between worlds…between dimensions," he began. "It acts as a gateway…docking, or transit…it can also be use for hiding, or business. These pockets are places that exist in between, small worlds all their own. They're places that only those who know of them can travel…and usually only by invitation. Time passes differently in these places…not as slowly as it does here, but not as quickly as it does in most hell dimensions."

"Yeah, uh…" Xander raised his hand from where he sat, perched on the edge of the couch. "That's all well and good…but what does this have to do with vampires with souls and truces with Slayers?"

"I was getting to that." The demon showed his first sign of irritation at the interruption, but managed to reign it in. He turned a patient smile towards the Slayer, then took a look at all of her companions.

"You're all demon hunters…" His gaze fell on Dawn, who was twirling her gum around her finger. "…of sorts. I'm sure you know much about demons…" He purposely tried to ignore some of the blank looks he was receiving. "My name is Durrak. I am a Thorshosh demon. My kind…we are mostly businessmen of the demon world. That is how I know about this newest…pocket. For the last several centuries, the biggest business in our world – in many worlds, in fact – has been slaves."

Silence fell over the living room. Buffy swallowed hard, not liking the sound of where this was going.

"I-is…is this where the vamp-pires with souls come in?" It was Tara that spoke up first.

Durrak nodded. "At first…when the slave trade really began…it would be other demons that were enslaved. When clans warred among one another, the victims would be brought in for profit. Unfortunately, this only caused many more wars. After those actions were abolished as war crimes in most of your standard dimensions, and even most of the 'pockets' in between that I've described to you…well, then the slavers had to find some other source of – er – merchandise. Eventually, their efforts became concentrated mostly on humans."

Buffy's interested gaze all at once became a hard glare, her lips thinning. Her expression gave Durrak the distinct impression that he had a very limited time to get through his explanation.

"However, times have changed," Durrak explained quickly. "Humans were…weak. They made fragile slaves, and never lasted long. Eventually, they became more trouble than they were worth. Most demon species that bought them at all only liked them because they were…pretty, and soft. And they…screamed well."

"Ok…um…ick?" Willow spoke up now. "Not really the best way to get our help."

"My apologies," Durrak nodded ingratiatingly towards the red-headed witch. "Fortunately, as I said, those days are long gone."

"Ok, I'm confused." Buffy raised her hands in exasperation. "Why are you giving us the big history lesson?"

Durrak sighed softly, then shifted most of his attention to the slayer. "There is a gateway, here in Sunnydale…one that leads to one of these pocket dimensions…one that is currently being used as a slave brothel."

"So why ensouled vampires?" Anya asked. "And how did they get enough for an entire brothel?"

"I'm coming to that," Durrak assured her. "Even during the time when humans were still used as slaves, some of the brothels had already begun using halfbreeds…those that are part human, part demon. Some of them are born with human souls. You see, a half breed is considered nothing in the demon world…far below second class. To many species, they are worthless. It is these that became the slaves first. As for the vampires…" He sighed heavily, beginning to pace slowly across his small space in the living room.

"Vampires, despite their human appearance, are still considered demons. It was declared as much a crime to enslave them as it was to enslave full-blooded demons. But, when the owners of this particular brothel heard of the existence of a vampire with a soul…then, they were intrigued. A vampire with a soul is no longer considered a true demon, has no standing in the demon world…thus, there would be nothing and no one to object to that vampire being used as a slave."

Buffy clenched her teeth hard, trying to remain calm. "Are you saying they went after Angel?"

He laughed. "Oh, of course not…Angelus has made quite a reputation for himself in Los Angeles…none of them desire to take the risk of trying to capture him. And why would they need to, when they could simply make more?"

"Make more?" Willow asked. "As in, ensoulling other vampires?"

"Precisely…it isn't that difficult. And if you can trick them into asking for it willingly…well, then it stays put. You have a slave that you don't have to worry about any demon race demanding that you set free."

"Why would any vampire want to willingly accept a soul? From what I hear, it sucks." Anya pointed out – then glancing anxiously around the room for the reactions of the others, shrugged and added self-consciously, "For them, anyway."

"The slavers have…methods of persuasion. They make a great deal of money from their brothel…it's become quite large over the last month alone. They have telepathic creatures working for them, shape shifters…and of course, they employ the best torturers in any dimension."

"They're that big?" Tara asked, the worry on her face enough to tear at the heart. "B-but how? Wouldn't we have heard something about them by now? I mean, if they're somehow working in Sunnydale…"

He smiled softly at the blonde witch. "Time works differently in that small dimension, as I said. While here it's only been a month, in their pocket dimension, they've been building for years. And all they must do to acquire their slaves is to simply skip over to this dimension, lift a fledgling or ten every one of your days…and would you ever notice, with the abundance of vampires that Sunnydale seems to have? Then, they simply return to their sanctuary to restore the poor creature's soul, train it as a slave – and it spends the rest of its miserable existence in the service of these brutes, to make them money."

"So what are you saying...?" Buffy felt numb as she asked. "That there are…how many…?"

"Nearly a hundred," Durrak said. "Since not all of their vampire slaves are taken from the Hellmouth."

"Hundred…" Buffy tried hard to wrap her tongue and her mind around the word. "A hundred…ensouled…enslaved…vampires."

He nodded.

"Alright…" She folded her arms across her chest, trying to hide the shaking of her hands. "Say I believe you…what's in this for you? Why would you tell me this? Why try to help them?"

"This brothel…its owners…" He sighed softly. "They are former business associates of mine. They consider me to be in debt to them, because they helped me and my family gain safe passage through dimensions. They want…" He looked down, unable to meet the Slayer's gaze. "They want my daughters…for the brothel. I have twelve offspring, only two of them sons. They are all partially human – thus considered to be fit for slavery."

The Slayer studied the demon before her for a moment, wondering if such an unselfish reason could really be his motive. But then again, hadn't another demon done unselfish things before, for no other motive but his love for her?

She looked down, putting her hands in her lap and trying to keep her mind on the situation at hand. "I'll need proof of this. I'll need to know where this gateway is…and I'll need some clue as to how to stop this."

"Of course," the demon nodded. "Do you have…um…a, uh…" he held both hands up, making a box shape in the air, "video recording device?"

Buffy stared hard at him. "You want to use a video camera?"

"Did you have…another idea, perhaps? For proof?"

"Uh…well, I guess that is a pretty good idea – just – not exactly what I expected," she admitted as she turned to meet Xander's gaze. "Don't you have a video camera, Xander? Could you get it for him?"

He nodded hesitantly. "Sure, Buff…" He made his way towards the door, keeping a few feet of distance between himself and the new demon. "I'll just…be right back."

Durrak watched the carpenter, taking note of his obvious suspicion. He turned his attention back to the Slayer. "If you don't mind, I think I'll just take a step outside. I'd very much like a little fresh air at the moment."

Buffy nodded numbly.

When the demon left the house, the Slayer turned to her red-headed friend. "Willow, I need to do all the research you can about Thersoshie demons."

"Uh…I think it was…Thorshosh."

"Fine," Buffy sighed. "Some research on these space…dimension…pocket thingies would be great, too. But do the research on this Durrak guy, first. If things go bad, I need to know how hard he'll be to kill."

"What if he's telling the truth?" Willow asked. "What if there are really all these vampires with souls that need our help?"

"Yeah, and what if he's leading us into a great, big, trap?" Buffy stood, rubbing the back of her neck. "We need to know…just in case. If he's telling the truth, I'll go in and take care of the problem. There will be no slave trade on the Hellmouth, not on my watch."

"Yo-you're going to go alone? To another dimension?" Tara asked.

Buffy shook her head. "No, I…I'll take Spike with me, he can hold his own. I doubt he'll mind dimension traveling…" she shrugged. "…as long as he gets to kill something, anyway." She made her way towards the stairs, then trudged tiredly up to her room.

Tara turned her attention to Dawn, who was still seated, and was suddenly very surprised to realize that the girl had stayed silent throughout the entire explanation, boring history lesson included.

"Is something wrong, Dawnie?" she asked, concern in her hesitant voice.

When the younger Summers girl looked up at her, Tara was struck by the worry in her eyes. Dawn swallowed hard, her voice soft, as she whispered her dread-laden question.

"Has anyone seen Spike lately?"


	3. Chapter 3: A Glimpse of Hell

**Author's Note:** Big warning. This chapter contains disturbing mentions of torture and rape, also some m/m. If you can't stand reading about stuff like that, you might want to avoid this chapter. Much thanks to my beta, DreamsofSpike, who has a nice strong stomach for it. ^_^

*****  
The warm water was soothing to Buffy's tired muscles and weary mind. Everything just seemed so exhausting to her – even just staring up at the bathroom ceiling and thinking.

Mostly thinking.

The shock of Durrak's claims had taken her for a long ride down the highway of moral dilemma. There were never-ending questions running through her head over and over, as to what she should do about what he had told her – not to mention whether or not she even *could* do anything at all.

She needed a break.

She needed a good – stress reliever. Unfortunately, her own hand was not proving to be a very good substitute. Arching her hips, she stroked herself harder. As her fingertips teased her body, she tried to imagine that the stroke against her clit was made by a cool, skillful tongue.

How was it that he could make her body sing like a musician on a familiar instrument, while she herself struggled to bring about her own release?

She no longer pretended to imagine that it was Riley with her – or even Angel. In her mind's eye, it was always a lean, compact, but muscular body that she saw. Blue eyes, dark with lust, watched her as she squirmed. Soft lips, the bottom one full and inviting, curved into a wicked grin of pleasure. Usually, there was also a deep voice with a cockney accent, teasing her with dirty whispers.

"Cum for me Slayer, I know you're close…love to watch you cum. Want to taste you…"

This time, there was no voice. Without warning, the dream came rushing back to her in full force. Those lustful deep blue eyes were suddenly pleading and betrayed, over sharp cheekbones shattered and bruised, mouth wide open in a scream of pain that for the life of her, Buffy couldn't hear.

A knock at the door had her sitting up straight with a startled yelp. Swallowing hard, her eyes searched the bathroom, as if expecting Spike to pop up out of nowhere.

The knock came a second time, more urgently "You alright, Buffy?" Willow asked.

"Um…y- uh, yeah! What's up?" She pushed wet strands of hair off of her face, trying her best to sound as if everything was normal.

"Xander and Durrak are back…Xander says Durrak just walked away from the truck a little ways, then disappeared into thin air. He came back a couple minutes later, and he says he's got our proof on Xander's ancient video camera."

**********************************************************************

Static.

The tape took a few seconds to actually play. When it began, all they could see at first was a long, dark corridor. As the picture came into better focus, they could see that both walls were lined with cells. The hall looked filthy, the shadows filled with slightly darker shadows scuttling back and forth – shadows that looked suspiciously like rats. Two guards patrolled up and down the corridor, stopping only occasionally to peer into a cell here or there.

"Vampires are not that difficult to break in preparation for becoming slaves," Durrak remarked in a quiet, solemn voice. "Usually, acquiring the soul does the job quite well all on its own."

The camera was now pointed into one of the cells. A male vampire was huddled naked inside, curled up against the wall and whispering to himself. His skin looked even paler than it normally should have appeared, his body thin and haggard.

"In mild cases, these vampires must be watched for any makeshift weapons they might harm themselves with, or even be force fed their blood. In the more severe cases – "

The screen went blank, before lighting up again to show another cell. Blood splattered the walls in chilling streaks obviously left by desperately gripping fingers. A female huddled in the center of the room, now looking afraid to go near the walls. Her hair was matted and dirty, and in some places pulled out. She was weeping and raving uncontrollably, her filthy fingernails tearing jagged marks down her face, streaking it with more blood and grime.

She was attempting to scratch out her own eyes.

Darkness mercifully filled the screen again for a few moments.

"Those that are not broken simply by being ensouled…" Durrak began, before falling silent again – allowing the video to tell the story for him.

On the screen, a new corridor led to a small stone chamber. Inside this chamber was a small wooden table against the wall, with a female vampire seated on top. She had been forced to sit up against the wall, with her legs bent and spread wide. She was naked and trembling, whimpering with tears streaming down her cheeks as thin needles were forced into her body. Two needles had already been put through her nipples, two through her feminine folds, while one each was forced underneath all of her fingernails and toenails.

Her torturer had just begun inserting more needles, these ones into her gums, right above her fangs.

"Physical tortures such as these are often used. But these slavers have discovered that psychological tortures often bring the best results."

Another room. A male vampire was strapped down to a table, being force fed a clear liquid while he tried his best to struggle against his unrelenting bonds.

"The ensouled vampires are often fed poisons and hallucinogens for weeks, until they can no longer tell the difference between reality, and the images created by the poisons in their minds. It is then that the psychic creatures and shape shifters are employed…to rip images from their minds – to find their greatest pains and fears to use against them."

A beautiful woman had walked into the room. The male vampire suddenly stopped his struggling, staring at her with wild-eyed hope. The woman had dark hair trailing down to her lower back, a warm smile and light green eyes. Her delicate features lit up like the sun when she saw him.

Recognition was obvious in the expression of the vampire being held down. His torturers had stopped forcing the liquid down his throat, and even untied his arms, allowing him to sit up on his own to greet his guest.

The strange woman tilted her head, not seeming to notice the blood that was suddenly pouring down it. When the vampire's eyes widened in alarm, she reached a hand up to her forehead. She looked down at her blood-soaked fingers, just as skin seemed to peel away from her face. When she looked up at him again, her body was falling apart, piece by piece.

Screaming in terror, the vampire tried to back away from her. He shook his head vigorously, trying to deny what he was seeing. He lashed out at his demon captors, who were once again holding him in place, unable to retreat, as the rotting woman continued to approach him.

The room was silent as the screen went blank again. No one had said a word, so Durrak continued.

"After they are properly broken - slave training begins. As I'm sure you all realize, this is not a brothel of *labor* slaves."

The next scene to come across the screen was of a literal dungeon of horrors. Demons stood along each wall, watching the center of the room impassively. Six other demons stood in the center of the chamber, all of them naked. A door was opened to a cell containing dozens of vampires, packed in impossibly close together.

A female vampire who couldn't have been more than nineteen years old when she was turned was carelessly tossed into the middle of the group of male demons. They immediately shoved her trembling body to the ground, as she stared up at them fearfully through wide eyes, half-covered by her long, tangled blonde hair.

As she was commanded to put on her human guise, and her fangs and eye ridges receded, all at once, she looked like nothing but a trembling, terrified girl.

The demons then commanded her to get on her knees.

"Oh goddess…" The soft cry interrupted the perverted show and tell. Tara was trembling hard, a sob torn from her lips.

Willow, her recent nervousness around her recently estranged girlfriend forgotten, gently wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. Her hand guided her head to rest on her shoulder as she murmured soothingly, "Don't look, baby…"

The girl on the screen didn't bother to beg. Her watery brown eyes remained on the floor, not daring to look up at her trainers, as she brought herself up on trembling hands and knees. Her hair was suddenly grabbed and jerked back, and she bit back a cry of pain. As one of the demons positioned himself behind her, she began to shake her head. She whispered softly, inaudible words, as she shook her head harder in denial – as if in utter disbelief that such a thing could be happening to her. Her hair was jerked again in a pitiless command to still her movements.

Her taking was hard and brutal.

The demon dug his talons into the soft flesh of her hip, drawing blood, as he pulled her back against him, forcing her into a more and more submissive position before him, before slowly forcing his raging member into her trembling body. He thrust himself into her completely, and she finally screamed out in pain.

She was slapped by one of the other males gathered around her for her outburst. She quickly choked back a sob, being as still as she could while her body was used without mercy. Another male knelt down in front of her, stroking her body at his leisure. He then positioned his cock at her lips, and she opened her mouth without having to be commanded.

Once they had finished with the wretched girl, a male vampire was brought out, one with short black hair and dark eyes. He was pulled forcefully from the holding cell and shoved into the center of the room. The demons closed in on him and forced him to the ground.

He fought back.

The punishment was swift and severe. His hands were taken and held above his head, where chains dangled from the ceiling. Once his wrists were manacled, the chains were pulled until the vampire was lifted off of the ground, his legs kicking in protest.

The stick they used was far thicker than a cane, heavy and strong enough to be a formidable weapon. They struck hard, aiming the first blow for one of his knees. The vampire screamed in agony as the sound of his kneecap shattering was clearly heard.

They aimed the next blow at his back, leaving a massive welt. He stopped his kicking, obviously in fear of more pain, his body trembling and his head bowed in submission - but still they beat him. The sound of ribs breaking could be heard above the menacing snarls of the demons that surrounded him.

When he finally hung limp and unresisting, they took their turns using his body, taking him hard, as if trying to make sure he bled and suffered as much as possible, leaving him hanging by his wrists when they were finished with him.

"Please…stop…" The plea came from inside the Summers living room.

All eyes turned to Buffy, who was huddling further and further against the arm of the couch. "Just…stop this," she pleaded softly.

Durrak spared her only a brief glance, insisting firmly, "We are not finished yet."

Already, the scene on the screen had changed. In a drastic change from the settings of the previous sequences, this scene took place inside a lavish room, where a female demon with soft brown skin stood with her legs spread wide. A male vampire with dusty blonde hair knelt at her feet.

Willow blushed and looked away from the screen. "Oh, goddess…we shouldn't be…"

"The slaves are taught to give pleasure on command - usually while enduring pain," Durrak explained, in barely adequate explanation for what they were about to see.

Each of the Scoobies tried to pretend that they were not morbidly curious, as they watched the vampire's tongue explore the demon's feminine folds, stroking and teasing.

In the demon's hand was a bottle of holy water.

She licked her lips as she watched the slave service her, keeping a tight grip on the chain around his neck. She pulled tightly on it, making sure that he could not struggle too much before tipping the bottle, watching the deadly clear liquid move down her slave's back.

He muffled a sharp cry of pain, obviously with some effort. His body went rigid as the smoke rose from his back. The skin bubbled in a straight line down, all the way to the top of his left buttock. Still, he obediently continued the teasing strokes of his tongue.

"That's enough," Buffy whispered softly, but with an edge to her voice that had not been there before. Something about the scene was suddenly striking to close to home for her comfort.

"No, it isn't," Durrak said. "You have yet to see the worst of it."

Static returned to the screen, as the tape came to an end. The first tape was ejected, and another put in its place.

"You have only witnessed the breaking and training of these vampire slaves. You have yet to see the punishments these creatures suffer for disobeying the strict rules they are trained to obey."

He paused before continuing his explanation.

"These slaves can be sold to individual owners, or put out for public use. Either way, they never leave the brothel. Masters and Mistresses may give their slaves pain for the amusement of it…but true punishment is another matter. They can be punished for many things - not kneeling to proper authority - running, hiding from their owners - for speaking out of turn, especially. If a slave was to resist his Master, or deny him in some way…that would merit one of the most severe punishments.

The most common of these punishments is simple public beating. Another popular punishment is the burnings, which was later made into a popular public game, and also used for some executions. The slaves are put into a pit, thirty feet deep. The walls of the pit are covered in crosses, and the ground is drenched in at least a foot of holy water. If any of the vampires make it out of the pit, they are allowed to live."

Durrak was silent for a moment before adding grimly, "It is possibly one of the slowest deaths a vampire can suffer – yet there are some slaves that do not even bother to try to escape."

The Scoobies listened with growing horror and disgust, all of them looking pale and sickened – all but Anya.

Static was once again replaced by horrific images that filled the screen. This time, it looked like the set of a gruesome snuff film. The camera had been taken into a torture chamber that seemed to stretch on for a mile. Instruments from every nightmare imaginable lined the walls.

Slaves were on their knees, chained by their necks and wrists, when they weren't being dragged farther into the room by heavily armored slavers. Those few who had previously been allowed some small amount of clothing, were now stripped and forced onto tables or metal chairs, or bound to poles.

A tall, almost Amazonian looking female vampire was forced into a metal chair. Metal spikes were put through her hands and feet to hold her in place while in the background of the scene, several hot pokers were taken out of a blazing fire.

"Please…p-please, Master, please!"

The sobbing voice coming from the television sent chills down everyone's spines. The sound of the sizzling flesh and the desperate scream of pain was the last they knew of that unfortunate female vampire. The camera had moved on, deeper into the chamber.

"This is commonly called the obedience chamber. It has many names, but all slaves look to it with dread. This is where Slaves are brought when they've shown great disobedience to their Masters - when they seem too rebellious, or when they dare to strike out, whether verbally or physically. Verbally - that sort of defiance is punished more severely than you might think. It is thought by the slavers that if a slave believes he can speak freely, he may believe he can maintain freedom in other ways, as well."

"There are two ways to punish a slave that speaks rebelliously. For the serious offense, their tongues are ripped out by the root. It normally takes a month or two for the tongue to grow back completely. For those in almost constant service, who cannot afford to lose their tongues, a more discreet method is used. Their throats are cut open cleanly, so as not to damage the flesh for too long, and then holy water is used to burn away the vocal cords…"

Buffy placed a hand over her own throat, closing her eyes tightly in denial of the horror of his words.

The screams on the screen suddenly reached a peak of terrifying proportions. All eyes were riveted to it, as a demon put a heavy metal clamp over the jaw of a helplessly restrained vampire. The clamp was then slowly forcing the jaw open, until there was a sickening crack of broken bone.

The slave flailed desperately in agonizing pain and wild panic, watching as his torturer brought a wicked looking instrument slowly closer to his mouth. The instrument closed around the base of his tongue, and then there was a wet tearing sound and a flood of blood poured from his open mouth…

"Oh god!" Xander rose suddenly from the couch, pushing Durrak right out of his way and running out the door. The sound of his retching outside could be heard by everyone still in the house.

"That's enough!" Buffy's demanding voice was nearly a shout this time, as she rose from the couch and stormed towards the television, grabbing the old VCR and yanking it away from the cords that connected it to the wall. With vengeful force she threw it down onto the ground, heedless as it shattered.

Tara was sobbing outright by now, holding both hands over her mouth as she buried her head against Willow's chest. Willow stroked her soft blond hair tenderly, even as she stared blankly at the screen full of static. She did not even notice the twin trail of tears moving down her cheeks.

Durrak remained silent as he watched the group of humans. Each seemed shaken to the core by the horror of what they had just seen.

Buffy's entire body trembled. She looked down at her shaking hands, unable to think of anything to do with them. She stumbled back from the VCR as if it were a disease, the bile rising in her throat without warning. The Slayer fought it back, turning and running out the front door to join her friend.

The fresh air was a shock to her system, and it gave her just enough strength to keep the contents of her stomach down. She breathed in deeply, closing her eyes and trying to center herself. When she heard heavy footsteps on the porch, she opened her eyes to find a still somewhat green looking Xander staring back at her.

"We have to stop it, Buff." Xander spoke first, surprising her with the determination in his voice. "No one deserves that. Vampire or not – soul or not – there's not a person or creature in this world that deserves that. Quick dusting – yeah, I'm all for it. But – not that."

Buffy nodded, her body still trembling. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself as she stared out into the front yard. For some reason, her gaze seemed drawn to the tree that Spike always hid behind when watching her house. "I'm just glad that I sent Dawn to her room…if she'd had to see that…" she shook her head helplessly, lost for words.

Xander nodded. "Yeah."

"We're stopping this." There was deadly venom in the blonde Slayer's voice, as she made her declaration of war. "We're stopping this, now."


End file.
